


Glasya Labolas

by aphelion_orion



Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Backstory, Gen, world-building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphelion_orion/pseuds/aphelion_orion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He teacheth all sciences in an instant, and is an author of bloodshed and manslaughter.' Razel and Konoe... bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glasya Labolas

Razel makes his way downstairs, and towards the back door.

His colleagues all have found more or less obscure ways to occupy themselves for the evening, ranging from stalking kittens to driving each other up the wall, and Razel truly does not feel inclined to play referee or nurse icicle-induced stab wounds, or—for the love of all that is bad and unholy—join in. He understands that they are all displaying the first signs of cabin fever, digging for sporadic clues yet coming up empty-handed, and mostly spending their time waiting. For what, neither of them is sure.

But the available activities are all less than attractive tonight. His mind is restless, and his mood less than tolerant because of it. If something explodes while he is gone, tiger-cat can go and deal with it.

The evening air is crisp and cool on his face, smelling of coming night frost and smoke, and he simply takes a moment to close his eyes and savor the relative calm, even though there is still the background buzz of the festival.

A soft scraping noise starts up nearby, and his eyes swivel to find his prey, sitting on the edge of the back porch and sharpening his sword. The atmosphere must really be getting to him, if he is starting to overlook important things like that. The kitten is steadily running the whetstone across the edge of the blade, but his ears are backwards, letting Razel know his presence has been detected, but not acknowledged. A show of strength where there is none, perhaps? How amusing...

He steps forward, looking down at the stubborn kitten. "Good evening, little one."

The ears instantly flatten, the tail giving an irritated twitch. One thing that makes cats so much fun to play with is the many ways they can transmit their body language, and this one has absolutely no qualms about broadcasting his feelings.

"I'm not little."

The petulant tone is making him chuckle, a child's protest. He bows mockingly. "You must forgive me, little one, but to me, you are rather small."

Narrowed amber eyes are glaring up at him through a mess of bangs. Konoe has caught the hidden barb, but his voice is cool as he answers, "Are you confusing size with greatness?"

Razel raises an eyebrow. How very interesting. Here is a child, inferior to him in every way, and still... such insolence. Back in his time, Razel had people beheaded for less offense than that, until they were all quivering at the mere sound of his name. But that is in the past. Now, it is rather refreshing to meet such a defiant mortal.

"Are you saying you are great?" he teases, honestly interested in the answer. This would not be the first pompous youth he has met.

Konoe snorts dismissively. "There's more to people than a small frame, that's all I'm saying."

The second eyebrow rises to join the first. "Oh? 'Do not judge the book by its cover', is it? A good saying, and a wise one at that." He inclines his head. "Well met, little one. Well met."

Perhaps not so much a child, after all, if he can hand a shining piece of wisdom to a thousand-year-old devil like that. "Do you mind if I join you for a while?"

The tail is bristling momentarily in obvious displeasure, but then, Konoe shakes his head. Razel smiles to himself and steps down, seating himself on the edge of the porch, crossing his arms. It is good to know that the kitten is aware of whom he is dealing with, does not show the reckless overconfidence in his own abilities that youth often displays, or wide-eyed trust in the alliance they have forged—it makes him much more likely to stay alive, and much more interesting.

Even sitting down, he is towering over the kitten, and he can clearly see the discomfort in his posture, the distrust lurking behind his eyes—but after a while, Konoe returns his attention to the sword across his lap, picking up the whetstone again.

Razel watches him work for a while, the motions practiced and easy. The kitten might be small, but fight he will, to the death if necessary, Razel has observed as much. If his wit is as sharp as his blade, maybe...

"You can have it when I'm done." Konoe's words pull him out of his musings, though he is momentarily confused as to their meaning.

"Pardon?"

"The stone," the kitten elaborates, eyes straying to the dagger at Razel's hip. "You want it, don't you?"

He smiles, pleased. The little one is wrong, of course, but the offer alone tells Razel more about him than any story might reveal. That he is willing to extend courtesy to an enemy, something his companions distinctly do not feel inclined to do, inspires a certain kind of admiration. He truly does not let his emotions rule him, however strong they may be. Smart, sensible kitten knows to cloak his likes and dislikes, and has recognized the futility of so much pointless squabbling.

"This blade has never seen a stone."

"Eh?" The ears perk in unabashed curiosity. Razel decides there is no harm in telling him.

"It stays sharp because I will it."

Konoe considers this for a moment, his head tilted to one side. "Do you will other things, as well?"

"Do you think I do?"

"You must have a lot of power."

"That we do, indeed," Razel agrees, nodding slowly. "But—" Here, he lowers his voice and leans closer, conspiratorially, and the kitten's ears flatten, but he does not move away. "—I will tell you a little secret, although my... associates will not be pleased about it. Devils are not all-powerful, even if they like to appear so."

Konoe frowns, clearly unsettled. "Why are you telling me this, then?"

He grins, revealing sharp teeth. "Because my associates will not be pleased about it."

"You do not seem to care for each other very much," the kitten observes, turning back to his work.

So cat-like, so limited. It would seem strange to the Ribika, who are so tied to notions like bonds and affection. Normally, Razel would snort at their ignorance, but this time, for some reason, he feels compelled to explain. "You are thinking in the terms of your race, little one. Concepts such as 'like' and 'dislike' mean little to us. We coexist, and we compete."

"For power?"

Razel nods.

"Is power that important?"

"It is everything."

The kitten is looking like he wants to add something else, but presses his lips together and stays silent. Razel narrows his eyes, but the young one's face is unreadable. "You wish to say something?" he prompts, but Konoe shakes his head. So polite, to withhold rash words. Good manners seem to be a rare art these days... they might have always been. "Do you disagree?"

Konoe looks at him then, the strangely piercing gaze catching Razel by surprise. Devils rarely look each other in the eye, and people used to sink to the ground and kiss the earth before his old self, trembling in fear of being executed for daring to meet his eyes. Such a direct stare, after so long a time, is slightly disquietening, more so because he does not know what to make of this child, is not sure what he is seeing.

"I don't know what it means to be a devil. I won't judge what I can't understand." Konoe's voice is soft, but firm. "So don't ask me to."

Well, well... isn't this intriguing. He comes to this world expecting to hunt food, and instead is presented with a little sage, who has barely outgrown his infant crib. The twists of fate are truly strange, sometimes.

In the ensuing silence, Konoe sets the whetstone aside, picking up a rag in its stead and carefully running it first along the edge, then the flat of the sword. Razel has turned his face away, but still keeps watching out of the corner of his eye. The young one seems to share neither the reverence of weapons harbored by the people of the desert lands from long ago—his old self's people—nor the abhorrence expressed by foreign chroniclers and emissaries. Idly, Razel remembers his ten-year-old other self, swathed in robes and ornaments suitable for someone twice his age, standing in the sanctuary of the temple of Esagila, holding out his hands to receive the sun blade in its sheath of gold and jewels, the sacred relic of Marduk.

A delicate cough draws him from the halls of the sun god and back into the present, where Konoe has set aside the blade. "Can... I ask you something?"

He smirks. "You can try."

The kitten snorts, ears flicking in annoyance, before drawing his eyebrows together. "When you first contacted me in the dream... why did you send the snakes? Why didn't you come after me yourselves?"

Ah, of course. The kitten would wonder about that. Razel takes a breath and turns his gaze skyward, examining the changing hues in the fading light. He is not used to sifting through his knowledge for things he can tell, and things he can't. It is bothersome. "Just like you are bound by the laws of your world, we are bound by the laws of ours. It was the only way to make you come to us, though, that much I can say."

"Come to you? You mean, to the Field of Four Colors?"

"Yes."

Konoe is looking at him shrewdly. "Why? Can't you leave there?"

Razel sighs. So much he can't reveal here, about the workings of that sinister magic. It is not for this child to know. He chooses the simplest, least informative answer of all, which is, of course, also slightly inaccurate. But what the kitten does not know won't hurt him. "We are bound to that place."

"Bound? You mean you can't leave unless someone calls you?"

"Yes, unless we are summoned, your world is not for us to tread."

"Like prisoners..." Konoe mumbles, hunching his shoulders and staring into the gloom.

Clucking his tongue, Razel shakes his head. "Sympathy for the devil, little one? Don't be foolish!"

"I wasn't..."

"Would you honestly want someone like Verg to be able to do whatever he pleases?" He has not missed the kitten's revulsion to Verg's blatantly sexual threats. The man has never been known for his subtlety.

"Are you implying that you are any safer?" Konoe counters, and Razel can't quite control the laugh that escapes him.

This is it, this delightful edge that has been sorely absent from so many a debate, a conversation! Finally someone who does not confuse sarcasm with wit, someone who turns his words twice over and searches the layers between for things he does not say. Strange, so strange, that in his day, no advisor, no confidant, could respond to him like that, and neither can his fellow devils, so reliant are they on mind games and bluntness and bitterness. How very mysterious, that it should be a mortal—his next meal, of all things—with a fraction of his age, knowledge and skill, who can match him pace for pace. How gratifying.

"No, indeed, I am not," he concurs, not bothering to hide his feral smile.

A not quite uncomfortable silence descends, bringing the noise of the festival back into the foreground. The multicolored lanterns are slowly lighting up along the edges of the main street, their soft glow barely enough to reach the steadily darkening backyard. Razel frowns, holding out his hand. Conversations in the dark are unpleasant - he likes to see to whom he is talking.

He stretches out his palm, and calls the fire from within. The feeling is not the same—not the same strength, not the same easiness—he is still so weak; but it will do. As the flame ignites, the kitten practically flinches away, tail bristling, fangs bared.

Oh?

"It is only fire," he says soothingly, dimming the force of the flame to reduce the glare. The kitten's eyes are very wide in the sharp play of shadows and red-gold light.

Konoe slowly draws himself upright again, letting out a deep breath. "...I know."

His lips twitch. "You don't like fire?"

The kitten favors him with an intense glare, ears pressed to the top of his head. "...No."

"Why?"

A pause, during which Konoe is undoubtedly debating whether or not to tell him. "I don't know. It has always been this way."

"Unfounded fears are dangerous, little one. They cloud the mind to realities and necessities. Fire is what cooks your meals and keeps you warm at night, is it not?"

"But... it can also burn. It can destroy." A pained look flits across the kitten's face, for reasons Razel cannot fathom.

"Yet fire gives life. A forest burning may be a tragedy to you, but it is also an inevitable necessity. The forest would choke itself with its own growth. The fire prevents that, and allows a new forest to rise from the ashes, greater and more beautiful than before."

A slight hesitation. "And still, it kills so much."

Razel is watching him intently, the shadows rising and falling in his eyes. It is doubtful the kitten was lying to him when he stated that he did not know the reason for his fear, and yet... how truly strange. Is it that there is something within him, remembering?

"You will find this duality in many things, I daresay even all of them. Any creek that quenches your thirst can give birth to a flood. Any breeze that cools your face can become a terrible storm."

Konoe is meeting his eyes again, steady once more, nodding. "The sword that protects life can also take it."

"Precisely." Razel allows a satisfied smile to show. It is good to know that while the kitten is weak to the irrationality of his race, he is not yet completely blinded by it. It would be a shame, to see the intelligence burning in those eyes hindered by fear. "I do not expect you to outgrow your apprehension in a day, little one, but do keep in mind that there are two sides to every coin. Consider the reverse side of things you fear, and ask yourself if they are _only_ fearsome. But..."

He pauses and the kitten's ears perk, intent on his words. The raw interest in his gaze is startling, the intense concentration on his face, like he is truly willing to learn, to reconsider, to conquer old theorems and reach for new ones. At that moment, in the light of the dancing flame, in all his youth and inexperience, he seems beyond perfect—Razel has known so many intellectuals, used to surround himself with them, his desert palace teeming with astrologers, philosophers and scientists, but not one of them—not a single one—knew how to expand his view beyond his own beliefs, was willing to abandon old in favor of new, all their intellect static, fossilized, useless to him.

But this kitten is different—he wants to know, he is ready to rethink things, he searches for everything and does not reject new teachings, is willing to broaden his mind and expand to new horizons—Razel has been waiting for thousands of years, for someone like that.

"...but, do not seek to rule them."

"Rule?"

"Do not think that because you can conquer your fear, you can conquer the elements. Do not declare yourself above their reach, and them within your control. This was the folly of the humes, and ultimately, their bane."

"Humans?!" Konoe exclaims, leaning forward with disbelief written all over his face. "Does that mean they really existed? I thought they were the stuff of fairy tales."

Razel nods, pleased with and annoyed by his interest at the same time. He supposes that it is his own fault for introducing the subject of humes to a child whose intelligence is paired with imagination, but he is loathe to simply tell him that it is none of his business. This is the first conversation in ages to intrigue him so, but still... he will have to be careful. It is not in his interest to sow the seeds of his knowledge in this world, and have them bloom into flowers of madness.

"What were they like, the humans?" Konoe's voice is calmer now, his excitement under control.

"Humes... they were a frivolous race," Razel decides slowly. "A lot like some members of your own, in fact."

Konoe makes a displeased noise, but does not refute his words.

"They built cities out of glass and steel, like mirror towers, higher and higher into the sky, all over the world. They would light them up with a thousand cold fires, to defy the god of darkness. They did many great things, but also terrible things. And things both great _and_ terrible."

"What happened to them?" The kitten's eyes are wide, his voice slightly breathless.

Razel shrugs. The inevitable. "They believed themselves to be rulers of all, and sought to change the laws of their world. In the end, they constructed their own doom. A great ball of fire, brighter than a hundred suns, scorching everything in its path, spreading poison into all directions." He pauses. "For those that did not burn... the end was slow."

Biting his lip, Konoe swallows. "That's just... so sad."

" _Sad_?" Razel blinks at him, bewildered by so much compassion. How can this kitten live, if he sympathizes with so many things? "They sealed their own fate. Why do you pity them?"

"Don't you?" Konoe asks, cocking his head. His voice is very soft. "You were one of them, weren't you."

Not a question. Razel's eyebrows rise to his hairline; only with effort can he prevent a surprised sound from escaping his throat. This was _not_ a question. Konoe is looking at him with eyes so calm, so sure, so _knowing_ , that it can't have possibly been a question. And once again, he has to wonder what the young one sees, how much he is able see. The experience is... fairly disconcerting.

It takes only a moment for him to regain his composure, though. "I have no allegiance with that race. That is the nature of a devil. They have no allegiance with _anyone_."

A small, almost teasing smile is pulling at Konoe's lips. "You're here, though, aren't you. With me."

These constant surprises are becoming a real test to his impenetrable façade. What a thrill, though, to think the sweet little harmless kitten has managed to put into words what he himself has been puzzling over. Dangerous, dangerous this kitten is, how wonderful!

The more he is speaking to him, the easier it is becoming to imagine a scenario where he abstains from devouring Konoe, instead taking his dainty white hand in his and leading him into the abyss, to wrap him in silk and jewels and make him speak, talk with him endlessly about all the things he has learned or wondered about, engage in a battle of wits sharper and sweeter than a crossing of blades, and twice as exciting. It is easy to envision this bright, perceptive child as an apprentice, a companion even, someone to spend the lonely hours with.

And why not? Eternity is a long time, after all.

He leans forward, ignoring the kitten's flinch, lifting up his chin with his free hand. The amber eyes widen, the tail is stiff and bristling, but he makes no move to pull away. Good. "I can see that these things interest you. How would you like to learn more?"

A small pause, to give the kitten time to consider. "How would you like to know more than stories, more than myths? I could show you all mysteries of Sisa, the truth about Ribika, the myriads of secrets lost with the humes. You would be able to study to your heart's content, without taboos, misconceptions or restrictions. You would be able to attain true wisdom."

He slowly withdraws the hand from Konoe's chin, presenting his open palm like an offering. "You would not be alone, of course. I would guide you."

Konoe stays silent for a long while, staring at his outstretched hand. Finally, he shakes his head. "Your offer is... very tempting. Which must be what you had in mind." His expression is still neutral, but his eyes are hard and sharp like diamonds.

"It is what devils do."

"And still, you expect me to believe that your offer is honest?"

"I told you at the beginning of our truce, that I would speak the truth. I still hold myself to that."

"Lies of omission are still lies in my book."

This is it. He knows that he has lost, knows that nothing escapes those eyes. He has met his master. Whatever powers Konoe has, they must protect him much more than they make him vulnerable, or appealing to devils.

Taking his sword, Konoe stands and performs a shallow bow. The irony behind the gesture does not escape him. "Good evening, Razel."

Razel's smile is sincere. "Good evening... Konoe."

He watches the young cat go, his slim figure disappearing in the darkened doorway. After a while, he turns back around, staring into the flame crackling in his palm, the smile still on his lips.

He might have lost the match, but the game is still on.

  
 **FIN**

\---------

 **A/N:** Woot, and that is that. I loved writing Razel, he is such a cool and cunning character. I think he and Konoe really find common ground, despite their cat-and-mouse game, even in the game itself.


End file.
